


No Exit

by Impala_67_winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agent!Dean, Agent!Sam, Anal Sex, Angry!Dean, Demon Sam Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Frustration, Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Possesed!Sam, Possession, Wincest - Freeform, You Have Been Warned, there is possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:44:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_67_winchester/pseuds/Impala_67_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Supernatural, Sam and Dean Winchester. Sam is possessed by a sex-crazed demon, and it targets the older brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Exit

Water dripped slowly down Sam's face; the lingering steam from a hot shower fogged the mirror and blocked most of the already dim light from reaching it. The towel that hung loosely from his slender hips was too damp from drying the moisture out of his long hair, so he discarded it in the corner and cursed to himself when there were none left to take from the towel closet.

"Hey, Dean," He called, opening the door slightly, just enough to peek his head through. "Can you grab me a towel from the dryer?"

The older brother didn't reply, but when Sam called out again, he was immediately answered with a warm, grey towel to the face.

"Thank you," He called, annoyed. He stared for a moment as Dean looked back at him and grinned, cocky as usual. Sam closed the door and proceeded with drying the remaining drops from his skin. After opening the door, the bathroom was nearly free of steam, and the mirror was clear.

Sam tied the mostly dry towel around his waist and stepped in front of the mirror. He ruffled his hair a bit, then shook his head roughly so it rested in the style he liked. Satisfied, Sam smiled.

And yet, he still stared at his reflection, the smile slowly fading as he remembered a time not too long ago when the familiar "Sam" face looking back was actually Lucifer. Sam's eyes wandered down to the protection tattoo on his chest, hoping it would still work, even after being sent to Hell. He stepped away from the mirror and sighed before opening the door.

Brushing through his hair with his fingers, Sam sat heavily on the bed of the hotel room, forcing a "thump" out of the messy blankets.

"Dean," Sam called, still fussing with his damp hair a bit, out of nervous habit. A muffled "yeah" came from the small kitchen area. "What are you doing?"

Dean muffled what sounded to Sam like "cheeseburger", and the younger brother laughed quietly to himself.

"Can you grab me a beer?" He called into the kitchen, expecting little or no answer. The refrigerator opened, then shut, and Dean appeared in the doorway, a paper towel covered cheeseburger, half-eaten in one hand and a bottle in the other.

"Thanks," Sam laughed, catching the bottle as Dean carefully tossed it. "So," Sam said, uncapping the bottle and picking a newspaper up from the floor beside him. "Check this out: 'Four missing hikers found alive, but mysteriously paralyzed'. Sounds like something to me."

Dean took the paper from Sam and read it silently while munching on the last bite of sandwich.

"Hm," He mumbled, swallowing the chewed food. "Demon?"

"Maybe," Sam answered, standing up and taking a few steps to the dresser. "But paralysis? That's unusual, don't you think?" He opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of boxers.

"'Nother day," Dean smiled, sounding cocky again. "Suit up."

Sam smiled and watched Dean disappear into the kitchen again. He looked back to the open drawer and thought for a moment before returning the boxers in his hand and taking a pair of Dean's instead.

The engine of Dean's Impala roared on as usual. As they drove, they were silent. The intense lack of voice made Sam uneasy. He played at a ruffle in his pant leg before looking and momentarily locking eyes with his brother.

"So," Dean said, before Sam was ready to speak. "What's the scoop?" Sam blinked before remembering why they were in the car and wearing suits.

"Oh, uh," He pulled a folded paper from inside his jacket. "I guess every hiker had bruises on their arms…" Sam fumbled with the paper until it was unfolded.

"Duh, hikers," Dean scoffed.

"No, like, their whole arms were swollen. One big sack of bruise," He giggled in his mind, the presence of his big brother still occasionally forcing him to be a little immature. Dean stared while he drove, deep in thought, or so it seemed. Sam observed him as he thought, noticing the stern expression before looking away and trying to mimic it, careful that Dean couldn't see him try.

"Sammy, I got a bad feeling about this," Dean gripped nervously at the steering wheel. "More than usual. I dunno. Like, not Lucifer-bad-feeling, but…" His sentence trailed off, and Sam glanced at him, awaiting a reply, but again receiving only silence and Dean staring sternly ahead. Sam returned the silence and looked at the dashboard.

"Holy… Sam!" Dean stopped the car suddenly, forcing them both to lurch forward.

Ahead of them a house was burning, the flames and smoke so high that the clouds were hard to see.

"House fire… So?" Sam questioned, watching the fire trucks shoot at the blaze and the people gathering quickly to the sidewalk.

"Sam, that's the hiker's house we were headed to," Dean sounded shocked as he stepped swiftly out of the Impala. Sam followed close behind as Dean questioned some of the people about the family. Sam turned to a crying woman across the road from where Dean stood.

"Excuse me," He asked. "What happened here? Do you know this family?" The woman sobbed and nodded, pointing a shaking finger to an ambulance, parked with lights flashing, a few yards ahead. Two paramedics zipped a green bag, loading it onto a gurney and up into the back of the ambulance. Sam looked to his brother and Dean looked back, both having the same idea and making their way towards the ambulance.

"Agent Wanek, F.B.I.," Dean showed a forged badge, and Sam did as well. "This is Agent Kilmansen. What happened here?" The paramedics looked at each other briefly, clearly confused.

"Why would they send F.B.I.?" One asked, not intending the question to be asked to anyone but himself.

"Excuse me, but we ask the questions, not you," Dean sternly presented himself. "What happened?"

"Uh, 32 year old woman, severely paralyzed. Burned to death," The paramedic looked at the green bag in the vehicle. "And a 49 year old man, first degree burns on the left side of his-" He was cut short by Dean's raised hand.

"Who was the woman?" He asked.

"Leslie Atkins," The second paramedic replied in place of his partner. "One of the hikers from the news. Tragic."

"Sure is," Sam stepped forward. "And the man?"

"Her brother, I believe."

"Where are the other hikers now?" Dean spoke again. The paramedics were overwhelmed by the interrogation, and paused a moment before answering.

"Two are in the hospital for rehabilitation, the last is in Andover, about 30 miles south."

Dean smiled sarcastically and nodded, turning to walk back to the car. Sam thanked the men and followed. Stepping into the car, Sam asked, "What now?"

"Andover," Dean seemed anxious. "We need answers, Sam. Bad feelings, remember?" He started the car and put it into gear, skidding back onto the road.

Sam was deep in thought now, realizing the irony in the situation.

The brothers drove, only stopping for red-lights and stop signs. About 45 minutes later, they arrived in Andover, immediately looking to the sky and noticing an all-too-familiar black cloud.

"Smoke again, crap!" Sam cursed. Dean drove on until they reached the sight of the blaze, which was fairly contained as compared to the last house.

"Same routine?" Sam asked, answered again by only the slamming Impala door.

"Agent Wanek, F.B.I.," Dean stated the alias again to the paramedics. "What happened here?"

"We think electrical fire," One answered, while covering a hideously charred corpse with a body bag. "It's too bad, poor kid was paralyzed. One of those hikers from the news."

"What was his name?" Sam asked.

"I believe it was Kenneth Rourke, he was only like, 17, right?" The other paramedic nodded.

"Anyone else?" Dean looked around, then back to the younger-looking paramedic.

"Everyone else got out okay," he replied. "Didn't even bother to save the poor kid…"

"Excuse me?" Dean looked attentive now, double-taking the paramedic.

"They found him on the third floor, in a wheelchair. Cooked alive, couldn't move." Dean looked to his brother, perhaps for a reaction, but Sam's face was solid- deep in thought again.

"Thank you" was all Dean said, nudging Sam towards the car.

"What the Hell," Dean was angry. "What the Hell is going on, Sam? Two of them, and that last kid was just left there? What the Hell!" Dean slammed a fist on the dashboard, snapping Sam out of his thought.

"I guess we should try the hospital next." Sam offered, drifting back into thought. Dean stared at him a moment, biting his tongue with anger. He sighed, frustrated, and started the Impala.

Arriving at the hospital, Dean sighed quietly, relieved that he building was in-tact. He looked at Sam again, who was still emotionless.

"Sam," He said. Sam sat still, unfazed. "Sammy." Dean nudged his shoulder with a light punch, and Sam snapped back to reality. A quiet "huh" escaped his lips before he looked at Dean.

"What's with you?" The older brother asked, genuinely concerned. Sam shook his head.

"Let's go." He stepped out of the car, a bit nervous of something, and made his way to the hospital entrance. He stopped at the door and looked back before Dean decided to follow.

Inside the hospital, the scene was opposite that of the burning homes before. It was quiet; so quiet, in fact, it set the Winchester brothers on edge. All they heard was the distant "beep" of medical equipment, and the whole wing smelled of various chemical cleaners.

"Must be between visiting hours." Dean laughed, still nervous. Sam's face tightened as he stared down the hall. In the distance, a nurse crossed the hall. Sam squinted slightly, almost portraying anger. He started forward, towards the room the nurse had entered. Dean followed, not saying a word. He kept a hand loosely on his pistol. They peered into the room. The nurse seemed suspicious, but not enough to cause worry.

"Excuse me," Sam asked, softly. The nurse jumped a bit, immediately drawing her eyes to Sam's gun. The brothers presented their badges. "I'm Agent Kilmansen, this is Agent Wanek, F.B.I.," The nurse picked up a tray and carefully stepped towards Sam. "May we be permitted to see a patient?" The nurse stared, extremely nervous. She pushed past the brothers and started down the hall, only looking back once. Dean and Sam exchanged a quick glance. Sam started forward, but Dean paused a moment to notice the room he was in was vacant; no patient to be checked on. He furrowed his brow and blinked. Shaking any nerve and following Sam.

Turning a corner, the smell of cleaning chemicals was immediately substituted for a terrible odor, forcing both men to heave before collecting themselves.

"What's cooking?" Dean coughed, his comment only seeming to annoy the younger brother. They removed their guns from their belts, noticing how the end of the current corridor had flickering lights that faded into blackness. Continuing ahead, Dean's eyes widened, and he pointed.

"Sam." He whispered. Ahead of them, on the right hand wall, there was a distinct hand print, smudged in blood and leading into a room. Closer still, they noticed the dark floor, and the adjacent walls, all smeared with blood. The door where it lead was closed. Dean moved first, coming up to the door and waiting for Sam to follow. Sam nodded, and Dean swung the door open.

Every piece of equipment was smashed onto the floor, and the entire room was slathered in blood. Under their feet, the brothers felt glass cracking beneath their feet. Neither of them said a word, but only communicated with glances and facial expressions. Drag marks in the blood led to a small bathroom, in which the shower curtain was torn and draped over a mass. Sam stepped towards it. Dean gripped his pistol and aimed at the curtain, waiting for Sam to reveal whatever laid beneath.

When the curtain came off, a mangled corpse sat in pieces in the stall. Dean covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve and looked away, gagging a bit. Sam's face tightened again.

"It's a demon." Sam mumbled.

"Naw, you think, Sam? It's torn to shreds," Dean could only look with a glance at the shredded, bleeding form before looking away. "Skinned, even. Humans can't manage that." Sam was quiet, staring at the carcass. After a moment, he pushed past Dean and out the door.

"Sam!" Dean called, then sighed and tossed the curtain back over the body. He turned and switched on the faucet, running his fingers under it. He cupped his hands and let them fill with water, and flinched when he heard a "thud" from outside the room; distant, but able to be heard by the ever vigilant hunter. "Sam?" He called, splashing the liquid onto his face and turning the faucet off. He paused and let the water fall, then looked into the mirror. "Sam?" He called again, a bit louder now, but still there was no reply. He wiped some of the water from his forehead and face and wiped his hands on his shirt, stepping swiftly out of the bloody room.

"Sam!" Dean screamed, seeing his brother several yards ahead on the hospital floor. Dean ran to him, dropping to his knees and lifting Sam's head from the ground.

"Sam! Sammy, talk to me!" Dean held him lightly. Sam's face was peaceful, quiet. "Sam!" Dean yelled again, shaking him once. Now Sam's face tightened, as if being awoken from sleep. Dean said his name again, softer now, relieved, and Sam's eyes opened. He blinked.

"What happened?" Sam asked, sitting up and messing with his hair a bit.

"You scared the Hell outta me, that's what," Dean scolded. He put a hand on Sam's shoulder and hugged him. "Did you pass out?"

"I guess." Sam answered.

"Come on," Dean stood, helping Sam to his feet. The younger brother's face was stained with blood from being on the floor. Dean smeared it with his sleeve and patted Sam's arm. "You okay?" He asked. Sam nodded. "Let's get home and call Bobby, tell him about all this." Sam blinked and nodded again, following his brother out of the hospital.

The Impala roared, and neither of the brothers spoke a word. Sam sat completely still, staring ahead. Dean occasionally glanced at him, just to be sure he was still conscious, but didn't say anything.

Pulling into the hotel parking lot, Dean took a last look at Sam, who didn't move until the car was turned off. Sam stepped out of the car before Dean could speak, and Dean watched as Sam entered the hotel without waiting.

He found this odd. He thought to himself for a moment, to the image of Sam on the floor. He remembered Sam saying "it's a demon" before walking out of the bloody room. Sam wasn't himself, but Dean had to be sure before acting on it.

The Winchesters' hotel room door was open. Dean cautiously entered, but saw that Sam was just lying in his bed, still like before.

"Sam," Dean said, closing the door. Only one light was on, the light just beside Sam's bed. Dean flicked on the main light and said Sam's name again. Sam was still. "You know what, Sam? I'm trying to help you out here, don't give me the fricking silent treatment, okay?" Again answered with silence, Dean sighed, and walked into the bathroom.

Sam laid quiet and still, the only sounds around him being the refrigerator clicking on in the kitchen and Dean using the bathroom. Sam opened his eyes when he heard the toilet flush and stood swiftly, stepping forward towards the bathroom door. The sink water ran, and a moment later the doorknob turned. Sam watched it carefully, almost in slow motion. The door opened, and Dean halted before his brother.

"What the Hell, Sam!" Dean growled, wiping his hands on his pants. Sam stood still, looking into Dean's eyes. Dean stepped aside to get around the younger while keeping a peripheral eye on him. Sam lifted an arm and caught Dean, and they stood for a second.

"Sam." He said again, just before being slammed into a wall by a heavy force, realizing a few seconds later that the force was Sam's arm. Mouthing a quick "damn it", Dean reached for his gun, now missing from its place on his belt. He looked up at Sam, and Sam held up the missing pistol, smiling. Dean gritted his teeth and watched as Sam tossed the gun away, his eyes blinking to a deep, glossy black.

Before Dean could curse to himself, he was slammed roughly onto the lightly carpeted floor.

"Sam! What the Hell, knock it off!" Dean yelled, beneath Sam's firm grip. Sam smiled and growled lightly, enjoying the hunter's attempt to fight him. Sam lifted Dean from the floor and dropped him onto the bed beside them. Dean struggled desperately as Sam held him down.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" Dean screamed, finally accepting the fact that Sam was possessed by whatever demon killed that person back at the hospital, and therefore ceased in referring to the demon by the name of the younger brother. The demon growled happily and released its grip on Dean, stepping back. Dean sat on the bed, propped up on his elbows and ready to escape, but only stared at the demon in his little brother's body instead. The demon removed Sam's shirt slowly, and stared blankly at Dean.

The eyes that stared were black, but full of obvious emotion. Dean's eyes widened at the sight of the demon's hunger, and a lump formed in his throat. He turned to jump off of the bed, his eyes locked on the door-his only key to freedom. The demon grabbed the back of Dean's jacket and tore it, pulling the victim back to him. Without other option, Dean swung his hand back and punched Sam's face, causing the demon to step back. When the eyes looked back at Dean, a smile flashed briefly across the younger brother's face again.

"Dean," Sam's voice spoke, but with the background lust of the demon. "Let it happen," In a blink, the demon had torn Dean's shirt off, gazing hungrily at the sculpted torso beneath. Dean kicked, but the demon just laughed. "You know that you're only hurting Sam here. Stop fighting me." Dean gritted his teeth, demanding under his breath that the demon let his brother go free, but the demon smirked silently; an obvious refusal. Dean lay helpless before the monster inhabiting Sam's body. He tightly shut his eyes, feeling warmness in them and refusing to cry for his brother. The demon growled happily. Dean felt cool hands at his beltline and froze, gritting his teeth harder.

He was exposed now, cold in the open room. His eyes were still closed, but he could feel the demon looking him over, observing every detail of his nakedness. A wet warmth made its way up Dean's chest and over his collarbone.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to play with your food?" Dean hissed, still hurt deeply that he couldn't help Sam to escape. The demon growled, either from happiness or being annoyed at Dean's comment, but still the hunter's eyes remained closed; he couldn't bear to see his little brother's face staring back at him.

"You're absolutely right," Sam's voice was close to Dean's ear. "I shouldn't play with you too much before I get straight to the point." Dean burned with anger and frustration.

"Just fricking eat me already; get it the Hell over with!" He yelled, looking into the black eyes with the intent to kill.

"Close your eyes," The demon grinned. Dean bared his teeth and obliged, tightly shutting his eyes again, bracing for the pain; for the teeth to pierce the skin and spill the blood…

A gasp escaped Dean's lips as he was overcome with surprise; not pain, but overwhelming pleasure. His eyes were still shut and his face was heated. Looking back on everything, he began to wonder if this was his Heaven; if he'd look down and see his dream girl's mouth around his masculine appendage. The demon had made his death quick, and Dean was intensely appreciative as he felt the slender lips and warm, moist tongue play at him… until recognizing the feeling of the stiff hotel bed mattress beneath him. His eyes jolted open to the sight of Sam at his waist and he kicked him away, speechless and embarrassed.

The black eyes looked hungry again; hungry for something more than flesh and blood. Dean stared for a moment, still completely overcome with embarrassment. The demon seemed to be waiting for something, but Dean hadn't noticed; he was looking at the face that should be his brother's, and questioned himself.

"Stop it," Dean mouthed, barely loud enough for the demon to hear, and a bit louder said, "Give Sam back."

"Oh, I will," The hungry voice replied, suddenly close to Dean's face. "If you're willing to do anything to get him back."

Dean's face flushed an unintentional shade of red. The demon stood from its crouch and fiddled playfully at Sam's belt, grinning lustfully again.

Dean refused to give in yet, however. He looked away from the eyes and to the wall beside him. After a few seconds, the wall seemed to move, melting into the shape of Sam's face-overwhelmed with pain and torture and pleading for mercy-causing Dean to shut his eyes tightly. Sam's voice was in his head now, screaming Dean's name, screaming for help, and the image burned at the back of his eyelids. Dean threw his hands over his ears and yelled for the demon to make it stop, and it did, leaving Dean-eyes shut and ears covered-shivering silently on the hotel bed.

"Will you oblige?" The demon purred, eying the vulnerable and naked hunter. "Will you help your little brother? Will you help Sammy?"

Dean clenched his teeth together and felt his eyes heat up again.

"Fine," He murmured, a single tear escaping his eye. "Just … make it stop."

The demon smiled, unclasping Sam's belt and unbuttoning his jeans before Dean looked away.

"Fricking cannibalistic nympho demon," Dean cursed quietly to himself. "You'd better owe me big time, Sam…" He looked back at the demon, its lustful eyes examining every naked feature on Dean's body. Dean flushed red again, trying to find some sort of enjoyment in what was about to happen, but finding only confusion and embarrassment.

"You know what? Hell, I'm the older brother, I should at least-"

His thought was cut short by a heavy kiss. Dean fought for a second, until the demon backed away, saying, "Ah, ah. You said you'd do anything, so be a good little human and obey." Dean sighed, avoiding the demon's hungry eyes again.

Finally, Dean lowered his head, giving in to the demon; he couldn't stand to lose Sam again.

"Look at me, Dean Winchester." The demon growled. Dean obeyed, his eyes hot again. Sam's eyes looked back, but the demon was still in control. Now that Dean had given in, it had no reason to be intimidating.

Dean's eyes wandered. He'd obviously seen his little brother without clothes before, seeing as how he'd raised him since they were young, but he'd never seen him like this; never with this intention, this powerful lust pulsing through every orifice. He began to wonder why the demon just stood there, finding some sick, twisted pleasure in the way Dean looked up and down Sam's body.

"You love your brother, don't you, Dean?" The demon asked, emotionless.

"Why the Hell else would I let you butt-fuck me, you sick bitch?" Dean growled. The demon smiled sadistically, apparently taking Dean's comment as an invitation. Once Dean had spoken he immediately regretted what he'd said, tensing up as Sam's muscular body lurched forward, taking hold of him by a shoulder and the throat.

"Glad to oblige," The demon whispered, in a voice that unintentionally forced a quiet, pleasured gasp from Dean's lips. Dean felt hot breath on his chest and his neck, followed by a wet heat that traced his jaw line. He shut his eyes and let himself give in. The demon bit at him teasingly, forcing light moans from the hunter. The hands forced Dean to lie back on the bed.

Eyes still closed, he waited for what seemed like forever, but in reality, it was only seconds before his brother's lips locked onto his own. Their mouths moved; Sam's with passion and roughness, as was normal for him whenever he was intimate-through instinct or memory, whatever the case, the demon mirrored Sam's passion, or what he'd seen of it.

Dean however was cautious; this wasn't a girl, this wasn't even his one-and-only baby brother. This was a hungry beast, intent on what? Even Dean wasn't sure now. Sam's lips kissed with such careful yet pressured desire…maybe the demon would let him free, Dean thought to himself, between lip movements.

His thought was distracted by a wandering hand. Dean breathed quickly for a moment, but refused to look Sam in the eyes. His hands wandered too; he traced Sam's sculpted form as they kissed, only pausing a moment to wonder why the demon had suddenly stopped being so forceful and violent. The lips parted, and were replaced on Dean's tongue by Sam's fingers. Dean, embarrassed, paused to think, but proceeded to lick and suck at what was in his mouth. He felt Sam breathe warmly and let his fingers pull out of the wet warmth and feel at the intended entrance below Dean's waist.

Dean flinched a bit when Sam's finger played a bit deeper; only the tip felt the tight, never-penetrated hole. Still, Dean let himself take the almost-torture; it would keep his brother safe, after all. He opened his eyes a bit and saw the cloudy bluish-green eyes of his brother looking back into his own. Sam stared, his face unmoving except for the close to unnoticeable flare of his nostrils every breath he took. Dean stared back, eyes half open now. Sam remained solid, even after Dean's small exhale of pain as he was felt deeper by the exploring fingertip.

"Nngh… Sam…" Dean gritted his teeth and blushed, embarrassed as he felt blood rushing below his waist, but he kept his gaze n the younger brother. "Sam, if you're in there… Nngh…" Sam was still and quiet, except for the wandering finger and the breathing. "You owe me-unnh!" Dean exclaimed, clapping a hand over his mouth as the finger fully inserted and accidentally probed his inner sensitive nerves. He was fully erect now, and Sam seemed to regard this with great interest. He retracted his finger and slid his face downward. Dean breathed, and his eyes widened.

His hardness throbbed at the recalled feeling of the warm tongue. The younger's face remained emotionless; he simply opened his mouth slowly, teasingly, and stuck his tongue out just enough to play lightly at the head. Sam's tongue flicked, Dean flinched. Flick, flinch…

The older hunter exhaled loudly with a small moan as he was taken into Sam's mouth. He throbbed for more, but couldn't bear the thought of thrusting into that mouth. He rested his hand nervously on the back of Sam's head, hoping for a small insinuation for him to go deeper, faster. Dean's head fell back.

"It's like you've done this before…" Dean breathed, trying to forget the fact that it was the younger brother who pleased him.

Sam stopped. Dean's eyes opened and he lifted his head to look at Sam. Sam's mouth was still open and around Dean's hardness, and he looked back to the older brother with the same innocent eyes that drove the normally stern hunter to the edge of insanity. Dean's gritted teeth separated and a loud, gasping moan escaped from between them as he felt himself deep in Sam's throat. The sudden, mind-numbing gesture brought Dean close to his high point. Sam seemed to notice, and released his brother from his mouth. Dean breathed, almost as if begging him to continue. The younger's face was still solid. He grabbed Dean's shoulders and flipped him onto his stomach, then pulled at his hips so he was bent over on his knees, his tight, welcoming ass waiting to be violated. Dean propped himself up on his forearms and flushed red, still breathing heavily. He turned his head to look at Sam, who was playing at himself to be more welcoming to the older brother. He watched Sam's hand move, finding himself more and more eager to accept the muscular falice. He looked up at Sam's eyes now, and Sam looked back, mouth slightly agape. Dean looked back at his hand, tightly wound in one another and knotted in the bed sheets. His muscles tensed and he breathed slowly. Sam's hands fell lightly onto Dean's sculpted back, and the warm touch made the older brother flinch.

Sam's breath was hot; he breathed lightly and seductively into Dean's ear. Dean responded with tightly shut eyes and equally hot breath.

"….Are you ready..?" Sam breathed, quietly. Dean let out a small sound. Sam smiled, lightly nibbling at the cartilage on Dean's right ear, and hooking his arms around Dean's shoulders.

Dean still clamped his eyes shut, and lightly bit his lip. He thought he heard Sam say, "I'm here, Dean", but he assumed he was imagining it.

"Alright," He breathed, voice light, almost an unintentional beg. "I'm ready… Do me…" He braced himself, feeling Sam's strong hands caress him all over, and let out a loud, pain-and-pleasure filled scream when Sam's hips lurched forward.

A quick moan of pleasure escaped Sam's lips, and his hands continued smoothing over Dean's skin as he carefully began thrusting in and out of his brother.

Dean groaned at every movement, overwhelmed with intensity. His lower body was occupied by rushing blood, and his face was hot and flushed. He was enjoying himself, he thought, not wanting to finish before the demon that was his brother. He bit his lip harder, causing it to bleed a little and let it g, moaning loudly again.

"Dean… Unnh…" Sam mouthed, breathing and moving. His hands were tight on Dean's sides now, and he had one knee propped up on the bed. Faster, harder… Sam was ready to let it go. "How close are you?" He asked, eagerly, to his older brother.

"Sam…" Dean gritted his teeth, knowing that Sam was ready. Dean's hand found its way downward and he began playing quickly at himself, catching up to the ledge that the younger was on.

"I'm gonna come, Dean… I'm gonna…Nngh…Unh..!" Sam thrusted deeply, letting himself give way inside Dean. He slowed, but Dean breathed quickly, and begged him not to stop.

"Sam… Sammy… Ngh…" Dean's hand moved and moved, until it was replaced by Sam's.

"Unnh!" Dean moaned, coming onto Sam's hands and falling lightly onto the ruffled sheets.

The brothers breathed, Sam resting on top of Dean.

"Alright, you," Dean panted, moving forward and pulling Sam out of him. "Give me back my brother, you freak!" He slammed a hand onto the tattoo on Sam's chest, but nothing happened. Dean closed his eyes and concentrated, but still, nothing happened. His eyes opened to see Sam's soft, green eyes staring back, full of guilt.

"Sam…" Dean breathed, at a loss for words. "That was all… You were…" Sam looked down, and then back at Dean, his face flooded in sorrow.

"Dean, I…" The younger, too, was at a loss for words. But instead of words, Dean embraced Sam. Sam's eyes closed, knowing that even though nothing would ever be the same with his big brother, they had a beautiful moment, and he accepted it.

"I love you, Sammy." Dean said, stern and soft at the same time. Sam relaxed, happy to hear the words.

"I love you too, Dean."


End file.
